Chapter 10: The Hidden One

2022-05-20

Early the next morning, Mary had already identified a suspect on the train.

There was a man who boarded at Longze Station every Friday night. His destination changed each time—sometimes he’d get off at the very next stop, other times he’d go much farther. A day or two later, he’d catch a different train to return, starting the cycle all over again every Friday night.

He was a skinny young man with dark circles under his eyes, as if he never truly slept. Dressed in a suit and tie, carrying a briefcase, he looked every bit the traveling salesman rushing between cities. Like so many young people, he hid his fatigue well, always up late and glued to his computer. He blended in perfectly.

Longze Station wasn’t a big stop—maybe that was exactly why he chose it.

“He’s the one,” I said. “Forget looking for anyone else. We should move in and arrest him as soon as possible.”

“How do you know?” Team Leader Shao asked.

I just shrugged, watching him on the station’s monitor. He had a nervous habit—always touching his stomach, like he was checking that something was still there.

“We need to act fast,” Team Leader Shao muttered, rubbing the porcelain cup in his hands. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “It’s impossible that they aren’t following up. If they can’t reach Ye Zi, there’s a good chance they’ll run soon. It’s already been two days.”

His name was Lin Shu. Twenty-four, male. He hadn’t gone back to his hometown, and nobody had seen him until he suddenly resurfaced in Longze, right under our noses.

We launched a citywide search and set up checkpoints in Longze. If the man from the surveillance footage showed up again, he’d never escape capture. But days passed and he simply vanished. That left us with two possibilities: either Lin Shu had already fled Longze or he was still hiding somewhere inside the city, refusing to leave.

“We need an informant,” I told Team Leader Shao, who stood frowning at the map. “I’m good at this.”

He nodded. “Be careful, don’t let them get burned.”

I’ve said it before: the world I grew up in taught me things most people never even imagine. I’d learned to know people who spend their lives lurking in the shadows. Over time, I developed a web of informants—now, it was time to use them to track Lin Shu down.

It was a pitch-black alley where you couldn’t see your own hand, just the faint glow from two cigarettes. My informant and I stood back-to-back; he’d never let me see his face—being recognized could get him killed. Some people fear the dark, but for those like him, daylight is what’s truly terrifying. Night is their perfect camouflage.

Back-to-back, I handed him five hundred yuan.

He grinned. “What’s this about?”

“He’s probably one of yours,” I said, taking a drag off my cigarette while handing him a photo. “His name’s Lin Shu. If you know where he is, I’ll pay you a thousand.”

The moment he heard the name, the cigarette dropped from his lips.

My heart skipped a beat. Was it possible? Could this so-called informant actually be Lin Shu? I spun around and grabbed him. “You’re Lin Shu, aren’t you?”

He panicked, but I got a good look—this wasn’t Lin Shu. He flinched and shielded his face, terrified I might recognize him. But in the weak light of the moon, I saw his features and nearly recoiled. That face barely looked human.

His eyes were cloudy and sunken, cheekbones sticking out beneath skin so thin it seemed sucked into the muscle. His mouth hung slack, every tooth gone. The whole man looked like a walking corpse. He clung to his cap, desperate to slip my grip and get away.

Crumpling in my hand like a rag doll, he started sobbing uncontrollably. There was nothing I could say.

“You know Lin Shu?” I asked.

“Yeah… I know him…”

By the time we reached Lin Shu’s home, it was already afternoon. The summer heat made the air feel like it could burn your skin—just walking a few extra steps brought on a sweat. The shabby rental apartment wasn’t even locked. Inside the cramped twenty-square-meter space, debris and clutter were piled waist-high. In the narrow aisle sat a woman in her sixties or seventies, right in the middle of the mess.

She sat cross-legged, staring up at the ceiling in deep thought, sweat the size of beans rolling off her forehead. She seemed completely numb to the stifling heat. You’d have to see it to truly understand the meaning of ‘walking dead.’

“Old—” Team Leader Shao barely finished his sentence before the old woman turned around.

Then something none of us expected happened. She suddenly dropped to her knees, bowing forcefully. Her forehead hit the floor hard, the sound echoing through the room. When she turned, we all stared—she had only one hand. On the other arm was just a lump of flesh and bone.

“Please, I beg you… I have nothing left,” the old woman wailed.

Tears welled in Mary’s eyes as she struggled not to cry. Gu Chen moved quickly, rushing in to help the old woman up. Team Leader Shao’s face shifted as he introduced himself.

It took a moment for the old woman to answer. “Lin Shu’s in trouble again?”

She was Lin Shu’s grandmother. According to her, Lin Shu’s parents had spent most of their lives working far away, leaving Lin Shu to live with her since he was little. Before fifteen, Lin Shu had always been a model student. People used to say he’d get into the best high school. When he finished school every day, he’d help her collect bottles to sell for extra money.

But everything changed the summer it was this hot. Lin Shu came home clutching a knife.

After that, Lin Shu was taken away. Two years later, he came home again.

The first thing he did wasn’t going to the hospital, but coming back to see his grandmother.

They hugged each other and sobbed their hearts out.

One day, he asked her, “What could make someone forget about life and death—something that’d make you brave even if hell was waiting ahead?”

What could his friends possibly give him?

From that day onward, Lin Shu forgot life and death—and lived a fate worse than either.

He secretly sold his grandmother’s house to someone else, leaving her tossed out onto the street. His parents cut ties with him after that. Only his grandmother stayed.

His parents never sent back another cent. His grandmother survived only by scavenging trash.

After everything, Lin Shu changed completely—taking every last coin from his grandmother, not caring where it came from. He never once wondered whose sweat earned them, how she’d scoured the city under the sun, searching one silver coin at a time, or how many times she’d dug through trash for something to sell.

He cared for no one.

One day, penniless, he returned. His grandmother tried to hold him back, but Lin Shu’s left hand clutched every scrap of money she had, while his right hand grabbed a kitchen knife. In one swift motion, her hand was gone. The severed hand on the floor belonged to his grandmother.

Lin Shu walked out without looking back. He never returned.

Passersby eventually found the old woman and rushed her to the hospital.

“I cut it off myself,” she told everyone. “I didn’t want to live anymore.”

Lin Shu never came back after that, but he’d send his friends to get money from her time and time again. Just now, she’d mistaken us for his friends.

Mary’s tears finally fell.

I glanced around the dilapidated apartment crammed with junk. On the stained, peeling walls hung a few faded awards. If you squinted, you could still make out the words:

Lin Shu—Outstanding Student, awarded this certificate in recognition.